


The Maiden Voyage

by BenjisCoolTimes



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Icebergs suck, Impending disaster, RMS Titanic, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:31:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8694661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BenjisCoolTimes/pseuds/BenjisCoolTimes
Summary: Leslie's hated Benjamin for as long as she can remember, but things begin to change for her aboard the RMS Titanic. She discovers that he's always loved her, and she slowly begins to suspect that she feels the same way. After that, it's just a matter of figuring out how to navigate their newly found feelings together...and how to stay alive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new idea I've been working on, and I thought I'd share! I hope you all enjoyyyy :)
> 
> Also, a special shoutout to supervanillabear31 and fourthinobesity for reading over this for me and listening to me complain about it when it wasn't working. I don't know what I'd do without you two.

_April 10th, 1912 - Daytime_

“Leslie, get in,” her mother sighed, picking up her skirts and walking to the other side of the automobile. She completely ignored driver’s outstretched hand and slid inside herself, rearranging the fabrics of her clothing as she did so, but Leslie didn’t move a muscle. Once situated, her mother turned back and cocked an eyebrow, uncompromising. “Well, are you going to just stand there?”  

“Yes,” Leslie said, arms crossed over her chest and eyes defiant. She tapped a foot on the pavement for good measure and held her mother’s angry gaze; she wasn't so afraid of that look anymore, but the driver glanced anxiously between them. 

“Get in.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Oh, for heavens’ sakes,” her mother shouted shrilly, throwing up her hands. “You’re nineteen years old. Get in the auto.” 

She pointed at the seat next to her and offered Leslie an even angrier expression than before, but Leslie ignored this one too and gestured back to their house, which was now completely empty of their things.

“But this is our home!” Leslie insisted. “Here, in _England,_ not America!” 

“Oh, not this again,” her mother sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. The driver audibly gulped, his eyes now so wide they were mere seconds from popping straight out of his head. “Fine, if you want to stay, then stay. But I’m going, and I’m taking all our things and money with me.” 

Leslie’s mother gestured for the driver to get a move on, and he scrambled to the seat behind the wheel, shooting Leslie an apologetic look. The engine started with a whir, and Leslie watched in annoyance as the automobile slowly began to crawl away, the driver’s top-hat growing smaller and smaller as they turned out of the driveway. Her mother didn’t even look back once, but when Leslie finally huffed and relented, calling for them to come back, she swore the woman smiled to herself, smug.  

“Fine,” Leslie said, hurrying to catch up and hoisting herself into the vehicle, crossing her arms once more. “Fine, you win. But I’m still not happy about it.” 

“I know you’re not darling, but you’ll love America,” her mother told her, “Just wait and see.” 

“I won’t,” Leslie countered. “And I wont like this ship either. I’m always so afraid they’ll sink.” 

“Titanic’s unsinkable.” her mother reminded her, “I’ve told you a thousand times. Really, Leslie, there’s no need to worry.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise,” her mother assured her, placing a gloved hand over one of Leslie’s and squeezing. Leslie squeezed back, suddenly comforted, though she still wished that they didn’t have to leave. She’d loved it in Westminster, and she was already nostalgic at the very thought of going away. 

Leslie watched as the trees flew by in a green blur, and tried not to think of how much blue she’d be seeing within the next few days. Her zealous passion about everything in life had never extended to ships, or anything pertaining to the sea really; she preferred the solidity of land, and, thus, was not looking forward to her impending journey across the Atlantic. 

At least the Perkins’ and Wyatts would be coming too, Leslie thought, and she wouldn't have to leave Ann, Henry and Steph behind along with everyone else, although she could do without Benjamin, the youngest Wyatt boy. He had no regard whatsoever for manners, and was always mocking her, or else complaining about something or another; he lacked his brother and sister’s friendliness, and Leslie, frankly wanted nothing to do with him. She huffed at the very thought of being seated near him at supper for a full week, just as she knew she would be, as her luck always seemed to work out that way. 

She remembered one time in particular, which still left her fuming whenever she thought of it. Benjamin made her look like an idiot in front of Mark, the cute Brendanawicz boy she’d always liked. They’d went together once, not that it really mattered much, but Mark never quite saw her the same after Benjamin declared Parliament to be ridiculous, and she’d gotten all riled up, yelling at him for a straight twenty minutes. It hadn't been very _dainty_ Mark had said, and Mark apparently only liked dainty women. 

Leslie humphed to herself, recalling the not so fond memory; she’d been plenty dainty before stupid Benjamin showed up and started spewing untrue nonsense out of his stupid face. 

“Leslie,” her mother said after a long while, pointing to a spot in the not-so-far off distance and beaming widely. Leslie followed her gaze and gasped softly at what she saw. Sitting at the dock of the bay was a massive ship balancing on the rippling waves of the ocean, golden letters spelling out the word _Titanic_ stretched out at its front. It was long and ominous, doing nothing to quell her fears, but at the same time, it was oddly beautiful, and there was no denying it. 

Seemingly thousands of people were huddled around it, the crowd stretching out for an eternity, and the driver slowed to a near halt, beeping the horn on several occasions to clear the way. Most people though, didn’t really pay him any mind, too in awe to be bothered by incoming automobiles. One boy in particular caught Leslie’s eye, and she watched as he pointed at the ship from atop his father’s shoulders, a wide grin plastered to his face.

“It’s incredible,” Leslie’s mother whispered, and Leslie agreed. Her face no longer bore any trace of indisposition, and she couldn't help but to be stunned by the elegance of Titanic. 

Finally, they rolled to a stop, and Leslie accepted the driver’s hand as he opened the door for her and helped her onto the pavement. She thanked him with a smile and surveyed the rest of the scene from beneath her wide-brimmed hat before following her mother. She walked slowly, chin up and hands clutching at the front of her dress, trying not to trip over her own two feet in excitement. The last of the nervous butterflies in her stomach finally died down as she stepped over the threshold of the boarding ramps, and onto the Titanic for the very first time.   

Now, all that was left was for the ship of dreams to live up to its name. 

***

The inside of the Titanic was somehow even more stunning than the outside had been. Everything was ornate, ranging in colors from bright reds to deep golds and all crafted so beautifully, like each item was made with all the others in mind. Leslie couldn't help but to run her hands along the walls as she walked by them, still in disbelief that anything so remarkable could actually exist. She’d been doing it for an hour already, and she didn’t foresee herself stopping anytime in the near future. 

It almost made her forget about home. _Almost._

To be fair, there was nothing in the entire world that could’ve taken her mind off of what she was leaving behind, of all the people she’d never see again. Her thoughts often drifted to Mark, who she knew didn’t miss her the way that she missed him.

“Oh Ann,” she said, gripping her best friend’s hand firmly. “What would I do if you weren't here with me?” 

Ann squeezed back and smiled. 

“I’m sure you’d survive.” she said, but Leslie shook her head frantically, curls bouncing around her face. 

“Noooo, I wouldn’t,” Leslie insisted as she slid into a seat at one of the luncheon tables, where her and Ann’s mothers were already sitting, along with four of the five Wyatts. Leslie folded her serviette into her lap and began to pour an ungodly amount of sugar into her tea, ignoring her mother’s exasperated expression as she did so. 

“You know too much of that stuff can kill you, right?” someone behind her asked, and Leslie could feel, rather than see the smirk on his face; it was inflected in his tone of voice. 

“Yes, Benjamin, I’m well aware,” Leslie pursed her lips, not even bothering to turn around. She didn’t need to though, because he was already sinking into the seat right beside her and apologizing to the rest of the table for being late. He leaned back in his chair and ran a lazy hand through his hair before lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag. The smoking threw off his entire look, really, contrasting starkly with his carefully knotted bowtie and ironed slacks. 

“Ben, must you continually smoke at the table? Have some manners,” Julia Wyatt scolded, but Benjamin didn’t even remove the cigarette from where it was resting between his upper lip and teeth. 

“Oh Mother, stop trying to fool everyone. You do it all the time at home.” 

“I do not!” Julia exclaimed, but her face burned crimson all the same, and she didn’t say anything more on the topic. Benjamin blew a puff of smoke in Leslie’s direction, and she held her breath, telling herself over and over again not to snap; Benjamin wasn't worth it, even if he was the most horrible human being ever invented. 

An awkward silence fell over them all after the interaction, but Benjamin was seemingly oblivious to it, though it was more likely that he just didn’t care. He fiddled with the silver watch-chain on his waistcoat and stared off into the distance, all the while, pushing his chair backward so that it teetered precariously on two legs. Leslie wished he would topple over.  

Much to everyone’s relief, Steph hurriedly changed the topic, and the conversation was smooth-sailing once more, though Leslie did little to pay attention to it. Instead she swirled her tea absent-mindedly, and watched Benjamin out of the corner of her eye. She found herself watching him a lot, often times wondering how Henry and Steph could be so wonderful, and he could be so horrible. 

Benjamin caught her gaze and held it, his coined smirk creeping back onto his face. He let his chair swing upright and balance on all four legs once more, leaning his whole body closer to her. 

“Hey, Knope.” 

“Benjamin,” she responded curtly, folding her hands neatly into her lap and never once moving her eyes from his. 

“You want one?” he asked, holding out his package of cigarettes and cocking an inquisitive eyebrow. Leslie made a face of disgust, and he shrugged. “Alright, just figured I’d ask. It’s polite, you know.” 

Leslie said nothing.

“You know, I was doing some reading the other day,” he said, choosing to ignore the fact that Leslie clearly wanted nothing more than for this discussion to end and slotting another cigarette between his lips, though he didn’t light it just yet. 

“Wait,” Leslie stopped him. “ _You_ were doing some reading the other day?” 

“Yes,” he responded with an amused twitch of his lip. “I was. It was a fascinating book too, about a ship that sunk in the middle of the ocean.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Makes for good conversation.” Benjamin shrugged. “Plus it’s a good reminder of our own mortality.” 

“It’s a good reminder of our own…? God do you have to be so pompous all the time?” Leslie sputtered, actually lost for words, a trait that only Benjamin could seem to bring out in her. 

“Yup,” he said, finally bringing a flame up to his still unlit cigarette. “For all anyone knows, we could die at any time on this trip.” 

“Well that’s just not going to happen,” Leslie said, straightening her posture as if that alone would give her more authority on the topic. “Titanic is unsinkable.”

“So they say,” Benjamin said. “But you never know what could happen.” 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to scare me.” 

“And what if I was, Leslie?” He leaned in closer, so close that she could feel his breath on her neck. 

“Then you are a complete arse, Benjamin!” Leslie said, perhaps too loudly because it earned her a glare from her mother. She already knew she’d be subjected to a discussion later on her word choice, but Benjamin just laughed and leaned back in his chair once more. 

“Me?” he asked cockily, bringing a hand to his chest in mock surprise. “An arse? Good lord, I had no idea.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you had some idea,” Leslie grumbled, and she took a generous sip of her tea to hold back all the other things she would’ve liked to say. 

God, she hated Benjamin and his stupid smirk.

***

The sun beat down on Leslie’s exposed arms, hot and heavy, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind; it was hard to when she was walking the perimeter of the Titanic with Ann, Henry and Steph, talking with them all and laughing over the most ridiculous things. She’d always liked her life best this way, when she was surrounded by good friends and warm sunshine. Today it seemed, the friends were extra good and the sun extra warm.

As they walked, Leslie kept stealing glances at Henry, who was always so much more put together than Benjamin was. His hair was combed neatly off to the side, and he walked with purpose, with a straight back and long gentlemanly strides. There was no denying that he was the more attractive brother. 

It also helped that he didn’t have a constant cloud of smoke following him wherever he went. 

Leslie found herself thinking that Henry was actually ridiculously handsome, and if it wasn't for the fact that they’d grown up together, she might fancy him. He was sweet and caring, and he certainly wasn’t terrible face-wise, not terrible at all. 

She mentally shook herself. This was no way to be thinking of someone who was practically family! Plus, Henry probably wouldn't want anything to do with the likes of her; he had so many girls fawning over him back at home, and Leslie couldn't help but notice the way he was always looking at Ann. 

She sighed and played with the beaded pattern at the front of her dress, trying not to think of how she would always be second to her beautiful dolphin of a best friend. Leslie loved Ann dearly, but it often became frustrating when men flirted with her instead, leaving Leslie in the background, feeling useless and unwanted, like she was nothing more than just a shadow. 

In fact, the only one who hadn't made her feel that way, was Mark, but even he eventually made an offhand comment about it, asking Leslie what Ann’s current relationship status was. She’d felt the familiar kick in her gut on that day, but she pretended like it’d never even happened in the first place, pretended that the question had never escaped Mark’s lips, because it was much easier that way. 

It was easier to feel wanted. 

“Hey,” Steph said suddenly, touching Leslie’s elbow and bringing her back to earth. “Why was my brother all over you at lunch today?” 

“Yeah, he seemed to be talking your ear off,” Henry cut in, equally as curious as his sister. His eyebrow furrowed questioningly. “What was he saying?” 

Even Ann seemed intrigued, and Leslie sighed, not particularly wanting to have this discussion at the moment. Her and Benjamin seemed to come up a lot for some reason, and she would’ve appreciated it if people stopped bring up how often he got her riled up. It wasn't her fault that he was a stupid, ignorant little shit. 

“It was nothing really,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “He was just telling me about some book he’d read the other day. Something about a ship sinking; I don't really know.” 

“What made you swear at him then?” Steph asked with a small smirk that could almost rival Benjamin’s. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

Leslie laughed softly and pulled up the skirt of her dress so that she could take off her shoes. She’d always preferred walking around barefoot, and did so most of the time, often when her mother wasn't around to scold her for it. She held onto Henry’s shoulder for support as she bent down and noticed that he was strong and muscular beneath her nimble fingers. 

“It was nothing. Benjamin was just trying to scare me.” she said, straightening up and wiggling her stocking-clad toes. 

“Well, either way, he does seem to talk to you a lot,” Ann observed, and both Henry and Steph nodded in agreement. 

“I dunno.” Leslie shrugged. “I don’t think he talks to me any more than he talks to anyone else.” 

Ann, Henry and Steph exchanged knowing glances at that, and Leslie looked between them all, confused and feeling like she was missing something important that everyone else seemed to know.

“What?” she implored, and when no one answered her she asked it again, louder this time. “What!?”

“Nothing,” Henry started to say with a shake of his head, but Steph cut in, blunt as ever.

“We think Ben might fancy you.” 

“Well, that is just ridiculous,” Leslie said, stopping in her tracks. “That’s absurd! Why would anyone who likes me be such a jerk to me all the time? It just doesn't add up.” 

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Henry said disbelievingly, but then he pulled out his pocket-watch and motioning for his sister. “But Steph and I actually best be going. We promised our mother we’d help unpack for the week.” 

“Actually, I better be off too,” Ann admitted, and soon, Leslie was left to herself, already looking forward to supper when she would see them all again. Though she was surrounded by so many people, she suddenly felt lonely in the absence of her friends.

Leslie walked around the length of the upper deck solo once more before finding a bench and sinking down in it, placing her heels down carefully next to her. She’d have to be sure not to forget them, like she’d done on the countless other occasions she took off her shoes. She could do without another one of her mother’s exasperated lectures.

She found the piece of parchment she’d stashed in the sleeve of her dress earlier, and extracted it, running her fingers over it’s smooth edges. A smile found her lips as she unfolded the paper, even though she’d already read it multiple times. That day.

“Hey,” a voice said, startling Leslie and causing her to ball up the parchment in the palm of her hands, lest anyone should see it. “Whatcha got there?” 

Benjamin took the other side of the bench and silently offered her a cigarette. Leslie shook her head, and he flipped the lid back over the box with a flick of his wrist, stashing the carton in his pocket once more.

“It’s nothing,” Leslie answered him, already shoving the note back up her sleeve. “Nothing at all.” 

“Okay,” he said, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“It’s a letter from Mark,” Leslie admitted, not really sure why she was suddenly telling him any of this. “The last letter he wrote me, actually.”

“Brendanawicz, huh?” 

“Yes,” Leslie said, defiant, though she could feel her cheeks tinge pink at the confession. 

“You know he was just fucking Shawna Malwee-Tweep behind your back, right?”

“Benjamin!” Leslie exclaimed, feeling a pang of hurt rip through her at his words. She stood up briskly, making to leave. “How could you say such a thing?” 

“Oh shit,” he hissed under his breath, apparently noticing how glassy her eyes had suddenly become. “Shit, I’m sorry, please sit back down.”

His hand closed around her wrist, and he looked pleadingly up at her. His eyes were soft, apologetic, and Leslie slowly eased herself back onto the bench. Benjamin let out a sigh of relief, but he never once let go of her arm. His thumb ran in small circles across her skin. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It was, uh, insensitive of me.”

“Yes,” Leslie huffed. “Yes it was,” and then after a beat, “It’s wasn't true though, was it?”

Benjamin looked at her, startled and a bit uncertain. “Uh,” he gulped. “Yeah. Yeah, it was. I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”

“Oh,” Leslie said, her heart falling and a lump forming in her throat. “And you’re sure of it?”

“Yes. But listen; Mark…Mark’s a total douche. You deserve so much better than him anyways,” Benjamin assured her. 

“It’s okay, Benjamin, you don't have to be nice to me now that I’ve found out the guy I like was having sex with someone else.” 

“I wasn’t-” he began to say, but Leslie got up before he could finish, moving her hand from his grasp. His arm hit the the bench with a thud, but he took no notice, his eyes still trained on hers. 

Leslie held his gaze for only a moment before turning to walk away, her hair flying against the wind. She’d only made it three steps, however, when suddenly there was a tap on her shoulder.

“Your shoes,” Benjamin said, offering her the heels she’d mentally promised herself she wouldn't leave behind, but forgot anyways. 

“Thanks,” she said with a small nod of her head, and then she walked onward, leaving Benjamin behind her and being sure to dispose of the once treasured letter from Mark into the ocean as she walked by. 

Benjamin was right, she figured. She could do much better than him. 

But it didn’t make it any less painful.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is here!! Thank you so much for your support so far <3

_April 10th, 1912 - Nighttime_

Ben Wyatt always liked Leslie Knope.

He liked the way she had seemingly endless amounts of passion about everything, how she could argue about a single topic for hours on end if someone didn’t eventually cut in to stop her. He liked that after she was finished with a particularly long rant, her breath came in short huffs, but she was still as determined as ever. He liked how her fiery, willful attitude contrasted with her soft blonde curls and periwinkle-blue eyes, and he liked the way her nose always scrunched up cutely when she was irritated with him.

He liked everything about her, really; he could go on and on.

But tonight, watching her step into the dining hall, clad in an elegant red gown that hugged her body in mouthwatering ways, Ben just wanted to fuck her. He wanted to let his hands dance over the rise and fall of her breasts and hips, which were accentuated by the cut of her dress, and he wanted to kiss her senseless. He wanted to feel her wetness coat his fingers, and he wanted to taste her on the flat of his tongue. He wanted to sink inside her and hear her moan his name.  

He felt a stretch in his trousers, and shifted slightly. His fingertips found the cigarettes in his pocket, but he never took them out. Rather, he toyed with the box absentmindedly, and watched Leslie make her way towards him and the rest of the table. 

God, she was stunning.  

“Benjamin,” she said curtly, taking the seat next to his; the rest were already full.

“Leslie,” he smiled, reaching out to toy with one of her loose curls. “You look very nice tonight.” 

Her nose crinkled, and Ben’s heart bounded furiously in his chest. His dick too, was pulsing, though he tried not to pay it much mind. 

It was just that he really, really wanted to be buried inside her. Tonight.

He thought of Cindy, back at home, who was no longer here to pound into when he was thinking about Leslie, and he sighed. He missed her lips around his dick, teasing him to an earth-shattering finish. But, their flings were always superficial, and Ben knew that he was just her way of forgetting about Luke Davidson; the same way she was his way of forgetting about Leslie. Their arrangement worked for them, though, and they never once expected anything else of one another.  

Wrapped in his own thoughts, he didn’t pay attention to the conversation happening around him, but that was far from being unusual; he rarely ever did. The talk was always small and insignificant, and quite honestly, boring as hell. Ben longed to talk about better things, interesting things.

He fingered the stem of his wine glass and wished for something stronger. What he really wanted was a gin and tonic, but he knew that would never fly in present company. Perhaps he’d pay the lower decks a visit tonight and shake it loose with them. Their partying methods were always much better than this bullshit he usually had to put up with. 

And maybe he’d drag Leslie along with him. 

“Hey,” Ben whispered, fingers ghosting across her elbow.

“Shh, I’m trying to listen to the conversation,” she hissed back, and Ben snorted softly. He knew that she too, seldom ever paid attention to the mindless chatter. She wasn't shallow like the rest of them. 

“No you aren’t,” he countered, and her eyes sparked. 

“Fine, what do you want?” she asked, offering him a pointed gaze. 

“Are you cranky?” he teased, bumping his shoulder against hers. He was almost glad that they were in present company, because the look she gave him at that, assured him that if they were anywhere else, he would absolutely have two black eyes. 

“I am not cranky,” she said through gritted teeth. 

“Uh huh. Well, I know what might cheer you up.” He took a large sip of his wine, which was far too bitter for his liking, and he tried not to grimace as it went down; he was trying to be suave, goddamnit. “Come to a party with me tonight.”

Leslie hesitated for a moment, looking around. “We are at a party,” she said, confused.

“A better party,” Ben clarified. “One with _real_ booze…and dancing.” 

“Take Henry with you, then.” 

Ben laughed. She could be so naive sometimes. “I don't want to dance with _Henry,”_ he said. 

“Well, then I’m not quite sure why you’re asking me to come along with you. You certainly don't want to dance with…oh. Oh! You want- you want to dance with me?” 

“If you’d let me,” he shrugged, his trousers somehow straining even more at the way Leslie’s face flushed.

“Why should I let you?” she asked, shoulders pushed defiantly back. 

“Because I think a small part of you secretly wants to. Just to see how it all plays out.”

“I- okay,” she said.

“Meet me outside your room at eleven-thirty,” he said with a wink as he threw back the rest of his wine. 

***

Ben resisted the urge to shove his hands into his pockets like he usually did when he was nervous. Instead, he used them to shakily light a cigarette as he leaned against the wall adjacent to Leslie’s room, waiting for her to step out. His pocket-watch only read eleven-thirteen, and Ben was early, but he didn’t really mind waiting, not if it meant waiting for her. 

Finally, after only a few more minutes, the door creaked open, and Ben straightened up, his cigarette bouncing slightly against his upper lip at the sudden movement. Leslie stepped out and put a finger to her lips, signaling for him to be quiet as she closed the door behind her, lest her mother should wake up. She turned to him and smiled softly, still in her red dress from earlier that evening.

“Sorry, I wasn't really sure what to wear,” she whispered, clearly noticing the way his eyes raked over her body, though she had the reasoning all wrong.

“No this is, uh, perfect,” Ben said. “You just need to loosen up a bit. This party’s different; not as…uptight as what you’re used to.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Here,” he said, ignoring the question. He tentatively reached out for her hair, asking if it was okay before he removed several small pins, creating a cascade of curls around her face. He ran his hands through them all, using this as the perfect excuse to be able to touch her, to be able to run his hands through her soft, blonde hair. “That’s better. More natural.” he said, pulling away and looking at her from afar. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But, you might want to lose the necklace too, in case someone tries to steal it,” Ben said, reaching behind her neck to fiddle with the clasp and chain. Leslie stiffened slightly beneath his touch and her breath hitched, but when he pulled away, her eyes locked with his, not a trace of fear behind them. “Even though it’s very pretty on you.” 

“Okay,” she agreed as he stashed the pearls safely in his pocket.

“You’re being very quiet,” he observed with a tilt of his head. “Everything okay?” 

“I guess I just don’t have much to say.”

“You always have something to say,” Ben said as they hooked arms. He removed the cigarette from between his teeth, and offered it to her. 

“You know I’ll never say yes to one of those, right?” Leslie said.

“You don't know that,” he shrugged, placing it in his mouth once more. “Plus, manners matter. And what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t offer the sexy woman on my arm a cigarette?” 

“Sexy?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Not that I’m objectifying you or anything, of course,” he said, patting her hand reassuringly. “But yes, very sexy.” 

They walked through the lushly carpeted hallways together, Ben leading the way. They didn’t say much at all, but they didn’t need to. The silence was oddly comforting, and it gave Ben a chance to will his hands to stop trembling. He wasn't used to being this nervous around women, but Leslie always made his heart pound more erratically than usual. She made him come alive. 

The carpeted hallways soon turned into tiled ones as they descended into the lower portions of the ship, and Leslie looked around, intrigued. Ben watched the angle of her jaw glint in the opalescent lights as she took everything in, and he thought only of how he’d like to kiss and nip at the place where it met her neck. 

Finally, they came to the double doors leading into the party room, and Ben looked to Leslie out of the corner of his eye.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Not quite yet,” she replied, smiling. “You look far too put together for this sort of thing.”

Her tone was almost mocking, and her fingers landed on the first few buttons of his shirt teasingly. She pulled them through the holes in the fabric, until the top three were undone and just the slightest dusting of Ben’s chest hair was exposed. He repressed a shiver as her nails grazed across his exposed skin.

“Much better,” she said. 

“Two can play that game, Ms. Knope,” Ben said, slotting a single finger in the neckline of her dress and tugging it down slightly, so that more of her cleavage became visible. She raised an eyebrow at him before swatting his hand away, but she didn’t pull the fabric back up. 

“Behave, Benjamin.” 

“I would never,” he deadpanned, grabbing her hand in his, and swinging the door open. She held onto him tightly and straightened her posture before walking confidently into such an unfamiliar place.

That was Leslie Knope for you.

***

“I don’t like this,” Leslie said, her face scrunching up in disgust. She handed his gin and tonic back to him and turned to her fruity drink once more, taking a large sip to rid her mouth of the bitter taste. 

“It’s okay,” Ben practically shouted over the loud noise, accepting his drink back from her; he hadn’t expected her to like it and was quite surprised when she asked for a taste at all. He could hardly hear himself over the music and people talking around them, so it was a miracle Leslie even understood his words at all. “I didn’t always like the way it tasted either.” 

“Why’d you drink it then?” she countered, equally as loud.

“I dunno,” he said, shrugging. He didn’t really want to get into it at the moment, preferring not to share with her why he drank so much and why he wanted to forget so many things. That was a conversation for another day, a day when they weren’t supposed to be partying or having a fun time. So, he changed the subject instead, knowing that if he didn’t, Leslie would pester him about it all until the end of time. “You still owe me that dance, you know?” 

“I do,” she agreed. Her gulp was visible as she looked to the dance floor and found that it wasn't exactly what she was accustomed to. The types of parties she normally attended were classy and elegant, and the dances were more like slow waltzes than anything else. This though, was completely different. The people here had lost all their inhibitions to alcohol, and even in some cases, something stronger. They were all dancing in a drunken haze, many of them smashed into one another. 

“You don't have to do anything you don't want to,” he assured her. “What I mean is, if you want me to bring you back to your room I totally understand, but I think you’ll have fun once you get used to it all.” 

“What I’m not used to, Benjamin, is you being nice to me all of a sudden,” Leslie confessed, getting up and pulling him with her. “But, I would very much like that dance, mister.” 

God, she was as fearless as ever, and it really turned him on.

He intertwined their fingers as he lead them to the dance floor. “Okay,” he said. “I would like that too.” 

Watching Leslie dance was quite possibly the most intoxicating thing Ben had ever seen in his entire life. She swung her hips rhythmically, perfectly in tune with the music, her arms in the air. She let her hands come down around the sides of her head, running her fingers through her hair as she did so. She moved with purpose, with elegance. 

Ben found her hands once more and grabbed ahold of them, using them to pull her to him. She laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he palmed her waist, but she fell deathly silent once she met his eyes. Perhaps she noticed something she’d never seen behind them before, a spark that no one except her could bring out. A soft “oh” fell from her lips, and she stumbled backwards. Ben mirrored her with a step forward, and they began to dance. 

Everything about her was beautiful; the way her hair flared out in a blonde blur as she spun beneath his arms, the way her eyes caught every single light in the room and held onto them all, the way her entire body moved like molten gold. 

The way she smiled up at him like he was reason enough for her to be happy. At least for now. 

“Everyone’s watching us, Benjamin,” she whispered, her breath hot and heavy against the crook of his neck. Their lips were mere inches from one another, and if Ben really wanted to, he could’ve lifted her chin up and kissed her.

“Really?” The corner of his mouth twitched as he held onto her hand more tightly in his. He hadn't noticed how the rest of the room had come to a standstill, completely mesmerized by them dancing. By _her_ dancing. “Let them.” 

And she twirled out once more.

***

“Are you having fun?” Ben asked. He was surely going to lose his voice by the end of the evening, if the amount of shouting he was doing was any indication, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to mind.

“Yes!” Leslie shouted back. She was now on her fourth drink, and more than slightly tipsy. She stumbled towards him and fell into his arms, giggling into his chest. “Thank you for bringing me.”

“Thank you for coming. You make great company.” 

“Better than Henry?” Teasing blue eyes looked up at him, and no matter how hard Ben tried, he could not bite back the smile forming on his lips.

“Yes. Better than Henry. You’re a better dancer than he is too, which I appreciate.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and let his fingers stay there for a fraction of a second too long. 

“Can I ask you something?” she inquired suddenly in her alcohol-induced haze. 

“Ask away, m’lady.”

“Why did you bring me here tonight? I mean, why the sudden interest in me?” she asked. 

Ben laughed. “Sudden?” He shook his head. “No, I’ve been interested in you for a _long_ time now, Leslie.”

“Is that so? Then how come you-?” 

“How come I’m a complete dick all the time? C’mon, Leslie, hasn't your mother ever told you what it means when a boy pulls on your pigtails before?” He tugged on a curl as if demonstrating his point. “It means he likes you.” 

“That’s rubbish,” she said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You don't like me.”

“You can’t decide for me who I do and do not like,” he said.

“I just did,” she retorted and Ben hung his head in defeat. A smile played across his lips just the same because of course Leslie Knope would declare herself in charge of his love life. 

“Okay,” he said, bringing his head back up. “You’re right; I don’t like you.” 

“I know you don’t,” she said, handing him her now empty glass. “Also, would you mind getting me another drink please?”

“Anything for you.” 

Ben sent a wink over his shoulder as he wove in and out of the thicket of people surrounding the bar. Just before he turned to face the bartender, he saw Leslie slide into a stool at one of the hightop tables, tucking her dress underneath her so that it wouldn't wrinkle, but then his view was blocked by people once more. 

“What can I get for you, son?” the man behind the bar asked, snapping Ben back to earth. 

“Oh uh, I’ll take a gin and tonic and a strawberry daiquiri please.” He slid a coin across the counter. 

“Strawberry daiquiri huh? You got a lady out there?” the man asked, already mixing the drinks. “Which one is she?” 

“The woman in red,” Ben said, tilting his head in Leslie’s general direction. The man had to crane his neck to see her around all the commotion, but when he did, his eyes widened and he let out a soft whistle.

“Well, I’ll be damned. How’d a poor fellow like you manage to land the likes of her?” the bartender asked, sliding the freshly made drinks over. Ben wasn't at all phased by the question, he was used to being mistaken for one of the lower-class men, especially in this environment, when his hair was somehow crazier than usual and he lost the waistcoat and bowties that he usually wore. 

“I have absolutely no idea, but she’s pretty special.”

“She sure looks it.” The man whistled again and offered Ben a small wink. “You better take care of her.” 

“Oh, I will. I’m going to ask her to marry me someday,” Ben told him. “She just doesn’t know it yet.” 

“Ah, good for you, lad.” 

Ben thanked the man before turning away, a drink in each hand. He twisted himself through the ever-growing crowd of people, trying not to spill any daiquiri down his newly-pressed white shirt. The last thing he needed was for his mother to know where he was tonight by discovering a pink stain in the laundry. 

It was as he thought about these things that he heard it; a piercing scream that sent his heart down to his toes and a chill through his spine. Everyone else seemed to hear it too, and everything stopped, even the music. Ben dropped the drinks he was holding, suddenly not giving a fuck that Leslie’s seeped through the sleeve of his shirt on it’s way down, and he pushed through all the people blocking his way. He was much less polite about it now, almost knocking one man to the ground, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the sight in front of him, the sight which made his blood boil in ways he did not know that it could. 

A man, maybe in his early thirties, was holding Leslie up, with a hand around her mouth to stifle her scream, and his other attempting to hold her arms down. His body was flush against hers, and he was whispering something in her ear as he ground down on her. Leslie’s eyes were wide and filled with terror. 

And Ben saw red. 

He rushed forward, fueled by nothing but pure anger, but before he could reach her, Leslie somehow managed to get one of her arms free, and she rammed her elbow into the man’s jaw. He stumbled backward, partially falling onto a table, before growling at her and making to grab ahold of her again. But Ben was faster. He stepped in front of Leslie, pushing her behind him and using himself as a human-shield. 

“Benjamin, no!” she yelled, trying to pull him back, but he pushed her further away. He was barely even paying her any attention at this point; the only person he cared about right now was the one directly in front of him, and he wanted nothing more than to kill him. Ben grabbed him by the throat with a firm hand, and then brought his arm back and down, feeling his fist come into contact with flesh. 

“You. Sick. Fucking. Prick,” Ben said, bringing blow after blow into the man’s face. He did not know how long he stayed like that; it could have been seconds or hours, but he didn’t stop until he felt small hands around his arm, trying to tug him away.

“Benjamin!” Leslie shouted. “Stop! I’m okay, please stop!” 

Ben finally let go of the man’s throat, and he doubled over, coughing and sputtering, blood falling in droplets on the floor. He looked pathetic, and Ben wanted nothing more than to kick him in the side.

“Never touch her again,” Ben said, and then he finally let Leslie lead him away, his shirt now stained with blood too and knuckles already swelling. 

***

Leslie pressed a cool towel just beneath Ben’s eye and he grimaced. He hadn’t noticed in his rage, but apparently the fucking bastard had managed to get one punch in before Ben nearly knocked the daylights out of him. It was only now, as his blood pressure slowly returned to normal and his heart rate began to steadily decline, that he felt the sharp throbbing in his eye. 

They were in the men’s washroom, Ben sitting up on one of the sinks while Leslie tended to his wounds. Her touches were soft and delicate, considerate of the pain he was in. 

“Hold this here,” she said, guiding his hand to the cloth against his skin. “I can maybe get these splatters out of your shirt before they dry.” 

She began unbuttoning him, and Ben let her, shrugging out of the sleeves. She pulled the shirt out of his pants, and brought it under running water, trying to dab the smudges out. 

“Leslie, it’s no use,” he said. “I can just throw it away, it’s fine.” 

“What if your mom notices?” 

“I don’t care,” he admitted, stilling her with a hand around her wrist. “All I care about is that you’re alright.”

Leslie sighed and turned towards him. “What happened out there, Benjamin? I’ve never seen you like that before. What if he seriously hurt you?” 

“He didn’t.” 

“But what if he did?” 

Ben shrugged. “I don't know. But I would do it again if it meant he couldn't touch you.” 

“Well thank you,” she said, taking the wet cloth from him and putting it against his eye once more, because he’d just been tossing it back and forth between his hands while talking to her, not really focused on the cut at all. “But you didn’t have to…go so overboard.”

“I’m sorry, I never should never have brought you here tonight. I should've known something like this would happen.” He dropped his head to his hands, and Leslie rubbed his still bare back soothingly. Ben hoped she didn’t notice the way it sent a flesh wave of goosebumps across his skin and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.  

“It’s okay. There’s no way you could’ve known,” she said with a small smile. “Plus, I had a really good time before that all happened. Turns out, you’re a pretty okay dancer, Benjamin.” She shoved his shoulder playfully. 

“Yeah?” he asked, pulling a much needed cigarette from behind his ear and lighting it swiftly. He leaned back against the tiled wall, and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “You’re not half-bad yourself.” 

“You don't need another one of those,” Leslie scolded, snatching the cigarette from between his lips and putting it out in the still running water. “It’s two-thirty in the morning.” 

“I better get you back then, before your mom notices you’re gone,” Ben said, tangling their fingers together again and pulling her from the bathroom. “If her sleeping habits are anything like yours, she’ll be up within the next hour.” 

“Oh shut up, Benjamin. The last thing I need tonight is yet another lecture about my sleep cycle from you,” Leslie said, making him smirk. “And why must you always smirk like that when I talk to you?” 

“Have you ever noticed you're the only one who calls me ‘Benjamin’?” he asked, ignoring the question and swinging their hands through the hallway like a pendulum. 

“I- what?” 

“No one else calls me that. Just you.” 

“Oh,” she said, eyebrow furrowing as she thought about it. “Sorry…Ben.” 

“Hey, I didn’t tell you that so you’d stop,” he told her. “I actually prefer it when you call me by my full name; it’s cute.”

They’d reached the door to hers and Marlene’s room by now, and they were standing in front of it, neither of them making to go their separate ways just yet. Ben had an almost irresistible urge to pull her closer by the wrists and kiss her, but he didn’t. Instead he dropped her hand and offered her a tight-lipped smile. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Knope.”

“Wait!” Leslie said, right as he made to turn away. “I, um, I might need a hand getting this dress off. All the girls who usually help me are most likely sleeping by now.” 

When Ben turned back, he found that she was blushing, and this alone, gave him a new surge of confidence. 

“Okay,” he said. “Lead the way, m’dear.” 

“You don't mind?” she asked, fumbling with the door handle as she put a finger to her lips. Ben just shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks,” she mouthed. She lead them into her room, and lit a candle so they could see. The lights from the fire danced across her face, and her eyes were piercingly blue. Ben’s arousal came back in full, and it certainly didn’t help matters much when she turned around, holding her hair off to the side, so that he could pull the zipper down her dress and help her with her corset. 

“You just have to…” she began to say, but Ben stopped her mid-sentence.

“I know how to get women out of their clothes, Leslie,” he said, and he did. He’d done it several times by now, especially with Cindy and even a few times with Shauna if he was being honest. What could he say? He got around. 

He worked slowly, taking his time with the zipper and then pulling the corset strings from each new set of holes it was tied into. Leslie audibly exhaled once everything was loose enough, and she thanked him with a smile over her shoulder. 

Ben wanted nothing more than to be able to stay. He wanted to slide the fabric of her gown from her shoulders and kiss down her back. It really did look like the perfect place to trail his lips. 

“Sleep well,” he said instead, and he was halfway out the door when a timid voice stopped him. 

“Benjamin, do you really pull on my pigtails because you like me?”

He stopped in his tracks, hand on the doorknob. When he looked back, he could only just make out her face in the candlelight, and he was probably nothing more than a silhouette to her. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay,” she said. “Goodnight."

And he let the door fall behind him with a soft thud. 


	3. Chapter 3

_April 11th, 1912- Daytime_

By the time Leslie awoke the next morning, the sun had already risen, resting high in the sky with its rays seeping through the window like liquid gold. She shut her eyes against the light, groaning loudly as she rolled onto her side. She brought her sheets up over her face in a weak attempt to call back sleep, but it was no use. It was far too bright, especially for someone like Leslie who usually woke up at the crack of dawn, sometimes even earlier than that. 

Come to think of it, why _had_ she slept so long?

And then it all came back to her.

She saw Benjamin, more disheveled than she’d ever seen him before, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a dangerous grin flitting across his face. She could still feel his breath, heavy on her neck as they danced together, and the rest of the room faded away into a blur, and she could see his hand bloody and bruised from punching the man who’d harassed her.

And then she could hear the sharp intake in his breath as he pulled her corset strings loose in her darkened room, able to see her only by the flickering light of the candle. She could feel his eyes grazing her back hungrily, as though he could see straight through the fabric of her slip, and she would’ve sworn that for a second, it was almost as though he was going to kiss her. 

And for a moment, she was sure she would have let him. 

Which was completely preposterous because she liked _Mark._ Of course, she liked him less once finding out that he’d also been sleeping with Shauna, but still! It wasn’t as though she could just get over something like that so easily, right?

She _loved_ Mark. There was simply no way she could like anyone else at this point- not when he was still in the front of her mind. 

So why in the world would she have let Benjamin, of all people, kiss her? It just didn’t add up; Benjamin was by no means the proper gentleman Leslie’d always dreamed of courting her.  He was pompous and arrogant, and quite frankly, made her seriously reconsider the consequences of murdering someone. Because Leslie was certain she would gladly spend the rest of her life behind bars if it meant killing Benjamin once and for all. She would have no problem shooting him in his dumb, delightfully angular face, no sir - No problem at all. 

Unfortunately, her fantasy was cut short by a soft knocking on the door, followed by Ann stepping in, already dressed in an elegant yellow gown that highlighted her tanned skin perfectly. There was a beautiful, almost shy smile on her face as she walked to the bed and Leslie made room for her on it.

“Ann!” Leslie cried. “Oh, thank goodness you're here! I have so many things to tell you.”

“Me too,” Ann confessed, and Leslie saw that she was blushing. She curled into Ann’s side and took ahold of her hand, sighing contentedly because this at least, still felt familiar even though things with Benjamin were so…strange now. 

“Tell me everything!” she urged, and the pink in Ann’s cheeks only darkened, though her smile grew.

“Henry kissed me last night. After the dinner party,” Ann said. “We were walking back to our rooms, when he took me aside and told me he’s fancied me for years. And then he kissed me, and oh, Leslie, it was incredible.” 

“YOU AND HENRY KISSED?” Leslie yelled, her eyes wide. Ann shushed her hurriedly. 

“Yes,” she whispered. “And now I think your mom knows too.” 

“Did he use his tongue? Did anything else happen? Did you go back to his room and do _other_ things too? Did he make it last too long? Because men don't seem to realize that us girls don't like that sort of thing, and-” 

“Woah, Leslie.” Ann interrupted, and she fell silent. “We just kissed, nothing else. And it, um, it lasted the perfect amount of time.” 

“Oh, Ann, that’s wonderful!” 

“It really was.” Ann smiled bashfully.

“But I swear, if he hurts you…” Leslie warned seriously, and Ann laughed.

“Henry wouldn’t. Not when you of all people are my best friend.”

“Good,” Leslie harrumphed at the same time that Marlene called for her to _get dressed, we have places to be, darling!_ Ann smartly took that as her cue to leave. She pushed off the bed and stopped in the doorway, turning back.

“Oh, didn’t you have something you wanted to tell me too?” 

Leslie looked up at her, thinking of the party last night and Benjamin, but instead of saying anything, she just shook her head. “Oh, it was nothing,” she lied. “I’m glad to hear about you and Henry.” 

Because really, there was nothing to tell. It wasn’t as though she actually liked Benjamin back. 

She was almost sure of that. 

***

“So,” her mother said, stitching up Leslie’s corset. “Where were you last night?” 

Leslie gasped and grabbed onto the wall for support as Marlene pulled tight, constricting her abdomen in a way that made her long for it to be nighttime already, so that she could tear this wretched thing off of her. 

“Pardon?” Leslie asked breathily. “I was at the dinner party. Don’t you remember?” 

“I meant after that, darling.”

Leslie’s fingers turned white on the wall, but she was no longer holding on for support. She was holding on because she suspected she’d been found out, and she was afraid of her mother’s wrath. She’d been on the other side of that once or twice before, and she had absolutely no desire to find herself there again. 

“I- I don’t know what…I was right here! In bed, and frankly, I could ask you the same question. Where were you last night, Mother? At some party on the lower decks? You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You’ve really got some nerve…” 

“So you were at a party, then?” Marlene asked, and Leslie met her eyes in the mirror. Her mother quirked an eyebrow and pulled at the strings again, though slightly gentler this time. 

“I told you, I was right here in in bed.”

“Leslie…” Marlene warned as the corset tightened, threateningly. 

“Okay, fine, I went to a _gathering_ on the lower decks. Are you happy?” 

But, just from one glance, Leslie could tell that Marlene most certainly was _not_ happy. Her lips were pursed, and she was clearly trying to choose her words with at least some caution. Leslie gulped. 

“Who were you with?” her mother asked finally, and Leslie screwed her eyes shut. That was the last question she’d wanted to answer. 

“Um, no one?” Her voice came out high-pitched, and Leslie mentally slapped herself for it. Marlene said nothing, and feeling guilty, Leslie finally relented. “Fine. I was with Benjamin.”

Marlene’s hands stilled, and the corset slackened around Leslie’s waist. She used the moment to breathe freely. 

“Well,” Marlene said after a moment. “Just be careful with him. Please.” 

She finished stitching up the corset and then proceeded to help Leslie into her petticoats and deep violet gown. Marlene smoothed over the material and made Leslie promise she wouldn't get herself into any trouble with Benjamin, which Leslie did somewhat exasperatedly. It wasn't as though she actually fancied him! 

Then, after fumbling around for their clutches and shoes, they made their way to the dining chambers together. When they arrived, they found that the rest of the group was already seated, waiting patiently for them. Benjamin welcomed Leslie with his candid smirk, standing up pulling out the chair next to him. He motioned for her to sit. 

“I saved you a seat,” he whispered. Out of the corner of her eye, Leslie saw Marlene glance between them with a quirked eyebrow, but she chose to ignore it.

“Thank you.” Leslie sat and immediately reached for her tea, just to give her shaking hands something to do. It was strange, but being in Benjamin’s presence made her suddenly nervous, and she was unsure of how to act around him now. He’d told her last night he liked her after all, and it was a lot to spring on a person at once. She was in this in-between state of somewhat liking him back, while still hating him. 

It was very confusing…

And the worst part of it all was how fast it seemed to be happening. Just yesterday afternoon, she would've laughed hysterically if she’d heard the things she was thinking now. But, then again, the fact that it _was_ so suddenly sprung on her could’ve contributed to it all too; perhaps it was natural to begin to feel this way after finding out that someone liked you. It was nice to feel desired, so it only made sense that Leslie would feel like this.

Yes, that had to be it. She sat back with a soft smile, relieved. She didn’t like _Benjamin;_ she just liked that he liked her. 

“So, Ben,” Marlene said, her voice sharp. Leslie knew that tone all to well. It was the same one her mother used when she was scolding her in front of other people, but didn’t want it to seem that way. “Whatever happened to your eye?” 

Leslie’s stomach did a weird twisty thing at that, and she looked over to Benjamin, who, sure enough, was still sporting his black eye from last night. She’d gotten so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she’d actually forgotten all about it.

“Oh, it’s no use,” Julia Wyatt said to Marlene. “I’ve been trying to wheedle it out of him all morning, but he just wont budge.” Julia laughed, somewhat maniacally, and then remembering herself, she cleared her throat and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a serviette. 

“It was nothing, ma’am,” Benjamin said, ignoring his mother. “I’m quite alright.”

He smiled politely and took ahold Leslie’s hand under the table. Her first instinct was to pull away, but he held on tight, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, and she finally relaxed. His hand was actually pleasantly warm in hers, and she welcomed the heat. It calmed her, and suddenly she didn’t feel so weird about the whole situation. 

And crap on a crayfish, she actually enjoyed holding Benjamin Wyatt’s hand.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

***

Leslie rolled a stray piece of lint between her fingers, half-listening to Ann and Steph play cats cradle on the bed next to her. Henry was in the chair in the far corner of the room, looking out the window at the deep blue sea below, and Benjamin was nowhere to be seen- he hadn't been since breakfast, and it was now nearing 2:00. 

Not that Leslie was actually thinking about Benjamin. Because she wasn’t. At all.

She sighed and threw the lint back on the floor. They’d been sitting like this for hours now, bored out of their minds. 

“We should do something,” she suggested for the fifth time that hour. Everyone gave her the same look they’d given her the last time she’d proposed this- the one that plainly said ‘we’ve done everything we can think of, Leslie, so just shut up already’. 

“Like what?” Ann sighed, humoring her. Leslie knew that she really wanted to be in her own room instead of here, kissing Henry. 

“I don't know,” Leslie said, slumping further into the pillows. She racked her brain, coming up with nothing.

Until…

“We could go exploring!” She bolted upright, a slow smile stretching across her face. “There’s so much to see!” 

This, if nothing else seemed to catch everyone’s attention. 

“Annnnddd,” Steph said, almost mischievously. “To make things even more interesting, we can turn it into a game of hide-and-go-seek.” 

“Aw, c’mon Steph,” Henry interluded. “We aren’t five anymore.” 

“So? It’ll be fun!” Steph ran to her brother and pulled him out of the chair. He stumbled at the motion, and Ann giggled from behind her hand. 

Henry looked to Ann, relenting only when she nodded. 

“Alright,” he said. “But only one round!” He waved a single, teasing finger in Steph’s face, as if to emphasize. She pushed him away, grabbing Leslie’s hand and tugging her from the bed. 

“Okay, one round,” she agreed over her shoulder. “But you have to count!” 

Steph pushed the door to the cabin open and was met with a loud thud.

“Ow!” someone said from the other side. 

“What the…?” 

“Steph?” 

“Ben!?” 

Benjamin came into view, rubbing at his shoulder and looking adorably confused. 

Wait. Leslie meant _annoyingly_ confused. 

Stupid brain. 

“I uh, what are you doing here?” he asked his sister, sounding incredulous.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Steph countered. “You do know this is Leslie’s room, right?” 

“I- I do. I was just, um- well, you see, I was- ” Benjamin fumbled over his words for just a moment, before he paused and ran a hand through his hair, pulling himself together. “I came to return this to Leslie. It must’ve slipped off at dinner last night.” 

He held out her pearl necklace. Leslie was immediately taken back to when he’d reached around her neck the night before, fingers brushing against her skin in a way that sent a flush wave of goosebumps down her back. 

“Oh!” she balked. She could feel her cheeks grow red. “Thank you. I’d forgotten about it.”

“You’re welcome.” Benjamin shifted on his feet, and the room seemed to collectively hold its breath. “Well, I’ll just…” he said eventually, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb and backing from the room.

“Wait!” Leslie’s fingers wrapped around Benjamin’s upper arm without conscious thought. “We’re going to play hide-and-seek! You should play with us.” 

Benjamin looked up to Henry who shrugged in response. Ann was looking at Leslie like she’d grown an extra head. 

“Uh, yeah, alright.” 

“Yay!” Leslie tugged Benjamin further into the room and brought him up to speed. “Henry’s counting,” she informed him. “And we can hide anywhere on the ship.” 

Benjamin nodded. “Okay, but we should hide in teams. So that we don't get lonely.” 

“Ohhh kayyy, so me and Ann on one team and you and Steph on the other?” 

“Well, actually,” Benjamin tapped Leslie’s hip playully. “I was thinking that you and I could be on one team, and Ann and Steph could be on the other.” 

Everyone was in agreement before Leslie had a chance to object, and as Henry began his slow count to one-hundred, Benjamin pulled her from the cabin.

They raced down the hallway, hand in hand. Leslie looked over her shoulder to see Ann and Steph’s colorful dresses disappear around a corner behind her. They too were holding hands and laughing. 

“This way!” Benjamin pulled her down a new corridor, and her heels clinked on the linoleum floor. She looked forward again and was surprised to see a small cluster of people blocking their path. Benjamin pulled her straight through them, without so much as even saying he was sorry. Leslie apologized profusely through her giggles, but the group didn't even have time to register her words before she and Benjamin were disappearing around the bend. 

“Where are we going?” Leslie yelled. 

“I haven't the faintest!” Benjamin answered. He lead them through a door and down two flights of stairs. Leslie made him stop for a brief moment to take off her shoes, but then they were gone again, her heels clutched in Benjamin's hand.

The next door that they opened lead to a spacious room with dim lighting. Inside it, there was a line of automobiles. 

Benjamin and Leslie stopped, both gasping for air. Leslie dropped Benjamin’s hand and slowly began walking towards the cars. 

“I think we’ve just found the perfect hiding spot,” she said somewhat breathlessly. Benjamin rushed forward and tried the door of the second car in the lineup. Miraculously, it opened. 

“After you, miss,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat. Leslie giggled as she stepped into the backseat, and she watched as Benjamin made his way to the other side. His hair was all messed up from running, and she had the strange desire to touch it. 

Maybe even run her hands through it a little bit.

He slid in beside her and let the door shut with a soft thud.

“Henry will never find us here.” He whispered the words as if someone could hear him, but the reality of it was that they were quite alone. In fact, this was the most alone Leslie had ever been with Benjamin. 

“He doesn’t stand a chance,” Leslie said, smiling. “We’re too sneaky for him!” 

“Well, I admit that _I_ can be sneaky.” He put a hand to his chest. “You on the other hand, though…”

Benjamin’s fingers found hers again. 

“What?! Are you suggesting that I, Leslie Barbra Knope, cannot be sneaky? Because I will inform you, good sir, that I can be very sneaky. Super sneaky in fact!” 

“Uh huh…” Benjamin was smirking. He pulled the pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket.

“I can!” 

“Sure.” He lit a cigarette, rolling down the window of the automobile so he wouldn't blow smoke in her face because he was a _gentleman_ like that. Leslie rolled her eyes. 

“Must you smoke those horrid things all the time?! I mean, seriously…” 

“I just like them.” Benjamin shrugged. “Have you ever even tried a taste? Just to see what all the fuss is about?”

“I- I haven’t,” Leslie admitted, shaking her head. Her hair sprung around her face, and Benjamin caught an errant curl, twisting it around his fingers. 

“Well, would you like to?” 

“Um, sure,” Leslie agreed. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and Benjamin handed the cigarette he’d been smoking over to her. 

“It’s easier when it’s already been lit,” he explained. “Especially the first time.” 

“Right.”

“So you just…”

“Inhale?” 

“Yeah, basically.” 

Feeling slightly foolish, Leslie brought the cigarette up to her lips. Her eyes met Benjamin’s as she breathed the smoke in.

“Oh, god!” she cried, motioning for Benjamin to take the cigarette back and coughing. “That was the absolute worst thing I have ever tasted! How can you stand that?” 

Benjamin laughed and shrugged. “You get used to it, I guess.” 

“Well, I don't know why anyone would want to! That was utterly repulsive.” 

Leslie’d finally stopped coughing only to realize that Benjamin’s hand was rubbing her back reassuringly. His fingers were warm, and she didn’t want him to stop. 

“Sorry,” she whispered finally, not really sure what else to say.  

“Don’t be.” Benjamin’s hand closed around her knee reassuringly. Leslie traced his knuckles and veins, her heart swelling when his breath hitched beside her. 

“I don't understand why you’re being so nice to me,” Leslie confessed. “You can be kind of a jerk, you know? But lately you’ve been…different. And it’s just with me.” 

“Pulling on your pigtails got me nowhere,” he said simply. He applied more pressure to her knee, so much that it tickled. She laughed and pushed him away.  

“Oh,” she said through her giggles. “I see.” 

She meant to be serious, but it was hard when Benjamin was seeking her knee out again so that he could continue tickling her. Soon, they were rolling around in the backseat, Leslie trying to ward off his hands and unable to get her cackling under control. 

“Stop!” she yelled, but he refused to relent. His fingers found her sides, and he chuckled as she let out something resembling a screech. “Stop, stop, stop!”

“What’s the magic word?” 

“PLEASE!” Leslie yelled, unable to wipe the smile from her face. She grabbed ahold of Benjamin’s hands so that he couldn't torment her with them any longer. Surprisingly, he stopped tickling her when she did, and they stared at each other for several long moments, breathing heavily. 

Leslie wondered if he could hear her heartbeat. 

“I don't think Henry will ever find us,” she whispered. Her soft voice was an odd juxtaposition to her screaming only minutes before. 

“Me either. Let’s get out of here.” Benjamin rolled off of her, and out of the car altogether. He held the door open for her and offered his hand as she stepped down. 

“So, what now?” she asked, smoothing out the skirts of her dress. 

She took ahold of Benjamin’s hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, and together, they walked out the door and back up the rickety staircase. 

***

“I wanna show you something,” Benjamin said. “If that’s alright.”

Leslie nodded, and let him lead her from the room. Soon, they were standing in the late afternoon sun, the wind blowing softly at their faces. 

“Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see,” he replied. His smirk was replaced by something that resembled a genuine smile, and it lit up his entire face. 

It softened his eyes.

“You should smile more,” Leslie said. The corners of her own lips turned upward just at the sight of him. He seemed…happy, and it was a sight Leslie thought she could get used to. 

“Should I?” 

“Yes, you should.” 

“Okay.” He took them to the front of the ship, and Leslie gasped at the sight. The sun was setting below the horizon, tinging the sky with beautiful streaks of pinks and golds. 

Leslie stopped several feet in front of the railings, not wanting to venture much further, but Benjamin beckoned her forward. 

“Come on. It’s okay.” 

“It’s just…” Leslie said, blushing furiously. “I’m, um, afraid of the water.” 

“I won’t let you fall. Do you trust me?” 

“Yes,” she said, but her feet remained planted on the ground, unmoving. Benjamin stepped towards her and took both of her hands in his, leading them back together. 

“I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.” 

Leslie was shaking. She stared at Benjamin’s feet leading her own, and realized with a start that she still wasn’t wearing shoes. 

“Here,” Benjamin said, leading her hands to one of the railings. “You can hold on.” 

She gripped tightly, her knuckles turning white under the pressure of her grasp. 

“You can step up if you want to. I’ve got you.” Benjamin’s hands held securely onto her waist, and Leslie, in a moment of bravery, put all of her trust into him. She stepped onto the lowest railing, hands still clutching the highest one. 

She was breathing fast now, still too afraid to look up, as if that alone would cause her to fall.

“You okay?”

“Yes.” 

“I’m right behind you.” Benjamin placed a foot on either side of hers, so that his body held Leslie in place. He was so, so warm.

It comforted her.

“Look,” he said, pointing in the distance. Leslie finally looked up, and her breath caught in her throat.

“It’s so beautiful!” she said. The wind whipped around them, blowing her hair into his face, but neither seemed to mind. 

“You can let go if you want,” Benjamin said. “I won’t let you fall.” 

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart." 

Leslie tentatively loosened her grip on the railing, only to find that she still felt secure. A small smile worked at the corners of her mouth, growing larger and larger as her arms stretched out to her sides. 

The wind was wonderful, and Benjamin was sturdy behind her. 

She felt alive. She felt as though she was on top of the world.  

Benjamin’s fingertips began to trace up and down her arms, and his breath was hot on her neck. Their hands joined, but never really stayed still long enough to hold each other. They just traced fingers and palms, looking out into the sunset together. 

Leslie angled her arm, cupping the back of Benjamin’s neck. She toyed with the ends of his hair, and turned her face just slightly so she could look into his eyes. 

“The sunset is beautiful,” she said.

“Yeah, it is,” he replied, but he wasn't looking at the sun at all.

He was looking at her. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked for a second time, and Leslie nodded.

“I trust you.” 

Benjamin’s hand came up to pull her chin closer to him, and then his lips were on hers, soft and sweet. The kiss was short, but the world seemed to stop, holding the moment open for them.

But, impervious to time, the Titanic sailed elegantly onward, towards the setting sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while between updates. I'll try to be better at that :) Also, there were some movie parallels in this chapter, but you shouldn't expect to see many more! Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments would make my day <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is here!! Thanks so much for all the kudos and comments thus far. You guys are the absolute best <3

_April 11th, 1912- Nighttime_

When the sun finally set, it was as though it dipped beneath the soft waves of the Atlantic, rolling hypnotically over the horizon. Nighttime on Titanic seemed to bring a slightly chilling wind with it, and Ben was unsurprised to see the hairs on Leslie’s arms standing up.

“C’mon,” he said, stepping off the rail behind her and placing his hands on either side of her waist. “Let’s get you inside.” 

“I’m okay,” she insisted, but she stepped down from her perch nonetheless. He noticed that she was still a bit shaky, but it was nothing compared to the almost alarming tremor that coursed through her body before. “I’m just a little chilly is all.” 

“I wish I had a jacket to give you. I wasn't thinking.” 

He pulled Leslie closer to him, his arm slung around her shoulders as they walked. She buried herself into his side and let out a soft sigh.  

“It’s okay. You’re like a human furnace.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt, and Ben chuckled, but didn't offer anything more on the subject. 

Because forming sentences was hard after kissing Leslie Knope. 

Ben was a bit dazed from it, and all he could think about was how soft and pliant Leslie’s lips had been beneath his. If it had been up to him, he would’ve kissed her forever, but, after just a moment, she pulled back and smiled shyly. He hadn't been able to look away from her, and it was only once she turned her gaze back to the ocean that he buried his face into the crook of her neck, leaving a lingering kiss there. 

“I don't want to go inside yet,” Leslie confessed.

“But you must be freezing.” 

She shrugged, smiling. “I don't really care,” she said. “Besides, if we go now, we’ll have to go to dinner, and I don't really wanna do that tonight.” 

Ben stopped in his tracks. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, turning Leslie so that she was directly in front of him. “ _You,_ Leslie Knope, don’t want to go to dinner? Even though Marlene will probably kill you if you don’t?” 

“I’m not scared of her!” Leslie said, her shoulders squared back defiantly, though her eyes suggested otherwise. “I’m nineteen years old, and you’re twenty-two. We shouldn't be expected to go anywhere we don't want to!” 

“Right…” Ben nodded vigorously, a piece of hair falling over his forehead. 

“And we both know that it’ll just be the same old mindless chatter anyways,” she continued. “About the weather and this new fashion trend and blah, blah, blah! It makes me want to stab my eyes out!” 

Leslie was now gesticulating wildly, and Ben couldn't tamp down the smirk that was threatening to surface. He pulled out a cigarette and slotted it between his teeth, bouncing it up and down a few times before actually lighting it. He blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth, his heart lifting at the way her nose scrunched.

“So, what are we gonna do instead?” he asked, taking another drag. 

“We’re going to find some food ourselves.” 

She yanked the nearest door open and pulled him inside. He stumbled a bit over his own two feet, and, when he straightened, he smoothed back his hair. 

“But, we have to be careful not to run into anyone we know,” she whispered, letting the door fall behind her.

Ben took the cigarette from his mouth and held it between two fingers. They were a bit shaky, still on some kind of strange adrenaline that could only come from standing in Leslie’s   presence. “Then, lead the way, mademoiselle,” he said, hoping he sounded more sure than he felt.

Because he was suddenly terrified of fucking this whole thing up. 

Leslie hiked up the skirts of her dress and began walking down the hallway. He realized with a jolt that he must’ve forgotten her shoes in the automobile they’d hidden in, for her feet were covered in stockings and nothing else.

“So, uh, just out of curiosity, where are we getting food if we aren't going to dinner?” he asked, jogging just slightly to catch up to her. For someone so tiny, she walked fast. 

“The kitchens, of course!”

“I see. You do realize that the kitchens are next to the dining room, right? So we might run into someone…”

“That’s why we have to be sneaky!” Leslie insisted, whirling around to face him. Her hair was in a complete disarray from all the wind at the front of the ship, and her eyes were wide. She looked like a lunatic. 

But a cute lunatic.

Ben reached forward and tucked her hair behind her ears, tilting her face. He kissed her forehead for no reason other than that he wanted to. 

“You’re crazy,” he told her when he pulled back.

“I know.” The manic flint flashed dangerously behind her eyes. “But I told you I’m good at being sneaky, and you didn’t believe me, so now I’ll just have to prove it to you.” 

“I bet you can’t do it,” Ben teased. Her face was still between his hands, and he rubbed a thumb over her cheekbone. 

“I _super_ can.”

“Show me,” he commanded, his voice barely above a whisper. 

***

Several hallways, three wrong turns and one staircase later, they stood in front of the magnificent wooden doors leading into the dining room. There were great glass panels in them, which provided a view of the room inside. Ben could only just make out his mother’s profile at the table in the corner, but mostly everyone else was blocked. 

“So, this is where it gets tricky,” Leslie mused. “We have to sneak by everyone and get to that room over there.” She jabbed a finger on the glass, pointing to a door all the way on the other side of the dining chambers. There were several men on the wait-staff coming in and out of it in a hurry, all dressed in sharp tuxedos and bowties, some with towels draped over their arms for effect.

“Right. And you're _sure_ that if we can get in there they’ll give us food?” 

“I have no clue. But this dress is low-cut, so I can seduce someone into giving us something if need be.” Leslie wagged her eyebrows.

“Oh…I thought you didn't believe in that sort of thing?” 

“Of course I do, you idiot. I’m a feminist, and feminists believe that women should be free to use their bodies however they’d like to. If I want to seduce the chef, then that’s my prerogative, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me, Wyatt.”

“You’re right,” Ben said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “That was just my way of trying to convince you _not_ to seduce the chef because I’d rather you didn't.”

“Why not? I could, you know; I have _fantastic_ cleavage.” 

“I-I’m not saying you don’t. Your…Those are very…pleasant.” Ben gestured awkwardly towards her breasts, and Leslie giggled. His hands began to sweat. “I just don’t want you seducing the chef, okay?”

“Whyyyyyyyy?” 

“You just…you shouldn't have to. I’ll pay for the food.” 

Leslie nodded, but it didn't quite seem like she believed him. If Ben was being honest with himself, she was smart enough to see through his facade; she _knew_ he’d be willing to slide over a few pounds if it meant she wouldn’t flirt with anyone.

He was jealous, and they both knew it. 

Ben cleared his throat and made a desperate attempt to change the subject. “So, what’s our plan?” 

“Well, Ann, Henry and Steph are on the side of the table facing us. Everyone else’s backs are turned, so if anyone _did_ see us, it would be them.”

“Uh huh…”

“So, I think we should just make a run for it.” She twirled her hair between her fingers, still looking through the glass window. 

“ _That’s_ your sneaky plan?” Ben asked, eyebrows arched. “ _Just make a run for it_?” 

Leslie nodded and looked up at him from beneath narrowed eyes, as if to say ‘it’s better than anything you’ve come up with.’ Ben sighed and grabbed ahold of her hand.

“This better work,” he mumbled. “The last thing I need is for Marlene to catch us and accuse me of being a bad influence on her daughter.”

“Well, she would be right. You _are_ a bad influence on her daughter, Benjamin.” 

And with that, she pushed open the door and pulled Ben inside before he could protest. They wove in-between the thickets of passengers and the wait-staff, both looking over to their usual table several times. So far, no one had noticed them. For the most part, they seemed to be eating in silence, no one mentioning the two uncharacteristically empty chairs next to them.

Well, the _one_ uncharacteristically empty chair next to them. It wasn't altogether that unusual for Ben to skip a dinner or two, but Leslie’s absence was strange. It was like the table didn’t fully come together without her. 

They were about halfway across the room when Ann finally looked up from her plate. Her mouth fell open when she saw them, hand-in -hand across the room. Leslie saw her too and put a hurried finger to her lips.

“Crap on a cuttlefish,” she whispered, as Julia looked up to see Ann’s surprised expression. Leslie tugged herself and Ben down just in time for Julia to turn around, looking for whatever it was that Ann was seeing. They were crouched behind a table, next to a cart with a tablecloth thrown over it and a cake resting on top.

“Did they see us?” Leslie hissed. She was still holding Ben’s hand tightly in hers. He loosened his grip, hoping she’d get the message to do the same, but she only seemed to hold on tighter to make up for it. 

Ben craned his neck just slightly, peering around the table’s rounded edge. His father was now looking around the room too, and Ben ducked his head back before he could be spotted. 

“I don't think so,” he whispered back. “But I think we’re trapped here for a bit. The others are getting curious.” 

“Well, Ann won’t say anything, so, as long as they don't see us, we should be fine,” Leslie reasoned, looking around the room somewhat frantically. Ben watched as her eyes fell over the cake cart and her smile widened. She turned back to him. “And, I might have an idea.” 

Before Ben could so much as ask what her idea was, she was dragging him in an awkward crawl towards the cart and lifting up the cloth covering it. There was storage space beneath it, which was, conveniently, big enough for two people.

_Oh._

“Leslie are you sure this is a good-”

“Not now, Benjamin,” she said, cutting him off. She pushed him forward so that he had no choice but to climb awkwardly into the cart and pull up his knees to make room for her. Leslie followed soon after, sitting directly opposite of him. She let the cloth fall back down, shielding them from view.

To say it was a tight fit would be an understatement. They ended up having to stretch their legs out slightly, intertwining them together in odd ways. Leslie’s skirts rode up, and Ben had the perfect view of what was beneath them. He averted his eyes. 

“Perfect,” she whispered. “Now no one will be able to find us, and we’ll be wheeled right into the kitchen.” 

Leslie smiled at him triumphantly, and Ben couldn't help but smile back.

“You’re sneakier than I thought,” he admitted, trying to ignore how uncomfortable the position he was currently in was. 

“See, I told you!” she said at the same time that the cart began to move. Leslie’s hand darted out in surprise, closing over Ben’s wrist in a vice-like grip. 

Ben closed a hand over hers, running his thumb over her knuckles as she got over the shock. 

“I can't believe we’re really doing this,” he whispered as Leslie grinned up at him. 

“Well you better believe it, mister, because it’s happening.” 

***

“Did you see the look on his face when we came out of the cart?” Leslie giggled, breaking off a piece of bread and offering it to Ben. He accepted with a small smile of his own.

“I’ve never seen a chef look so surprised before,” he admitted. 

They were back in the same automobile as before, figuring they should’ve come back for Leslie’s shoes before the night was over.

And what better place was there for a picnic anyway? 

Ben almost felt bad for whoever’s car this was since they'd already gotten an infinite number of crumbs stuck in-between the cracks of the seats. Yet, on the other hand, he didn't feel so bad at all. Nothing really seemed to matter when Leslie was across from him. 

Leslie’s hair was no longer neatly curled, but rather a snarled mess, and her lipstick was smeared. The sleeve of her dress had slipped over her shoulder, revealing skin in a way that would’ve made her mother scold her, but Ben knew she hadn’t even noticed it. Her eyes were bright and full, and Ben decided that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His eyes adored her. 

 _He_ adored her. 

She was all honey and sunshine and smooth edges, melodies that played forever and stars that didn't stop shining.

He wanted nothing more than to be able to hold her hand every day and fall asleep next to her each night. He wanted to sink inside of her and make promises across her skin with his lips. He wanted to fist her hair and whisper his love for her over and over again. 

He wanted it all. 

He loved her, and sometimes, he was sure that she loved him back. 

He reached forward and kissed the corner of her smile, leaning back to read her expression. Before he could lean back in, however, Leslie closed the distance between them. Her mouth was hot on his, and she parted her lips, letting him inside. Ben groaned against her. 

“God,” he panted into her mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

His hand came up behind her neck, and he pulled, deepening the kiss. It was Leslie’s turn to sigh. 

She was the first one to pull away, breathing heavily. Ben hadn’t even noticed how out of breath he was, as oxygen, apparently, wasn't a necessity in Leslie’s presence.

He needed her more than air. 

Ben went to lean back in, but her hand flattened against his chest. “Wait,” she said. “We…We need to talk.” 

“About…?” Ben asked, even though he already knew. 

“This.” Leslie gestured between them. “I’m just really confused, and I’m not really sure what’s happening here, so I’d like…”

“To talk about our feelings,” Ben finished for her. He’d known that this conversation was coming, and part of him had been dreading it, but now that it was here, he found that he didn't mind so much.

Leslie nodded, and Ben leaned against the car door, motioning for her to come closer. She pressed her back against his chest, and they stretched their legs out together, Ben’s arms wrapped securely around her middle. She played with the veins on his hands. 

“Okay,” Ben said. “You start.” 

“Well, I don't really understand where all of this is coming from. One moment we aren’t getting along and then the next, we’re kissing. I always thought we hated each other.” 

Ben kissed the top of her ear. “I don't think that’s true.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes you grow to hate someone, but you don't really hate them at all,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Sometimes it’s just a matter of trying not to fall in love with them.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he felt Leslie tense. 

“Oh…” she said. 

“I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now,” Ben continued, speaking fast. “I just didn't want to admit it to myself, so I acted like I didn’t. And then there was one day where I just decided I didn't want to pretend anymore because I…I want to be with you. You make me really happy.” 

Leslie was silent for several moments, and Ben held his breath. 

“Um, you can speak now if you’d like,” he said, growing more anxious by the second.

“Sorry,” she said. “That’s just…that’s a lot. I don't really know what to say.” 

“I understand.” Ben nodded. “You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I know that I’m kinda just dumping this on you out of nowhere, and it’s probably really confusing.”

“It _is_ really confusing,” Leslie agreed. “It wasn't that long ago that we were arguing about the most absurd things, and since then, you’ve been really nice to me. I’m not sure what to make of it.” 

“I know.” Ben bowed his head “I should’ve been nicer. I just…I liked getting a rise out of you.”

“You what?”

“Yeah, you look cute when you get angry. Your nose does this thing…”

“What thing?” Leslie demanded, turning in his arms so she could glare at him.

“It gets all scrunchy.” He shrugged. “And it’s kind of adorable.” 

Leslie turned forward once more, harrumphing, but her hands didn't once leave his. 

“I still don't know how I feel, you know?” she said finally. “These past few days have made me realize that I kinda like you, but you can still be a jerk, and I don't know how to feel about that.” 

“I haven't been a jerk to _you_ though,” he pointed out. “And I promise that I won’t be anymore. I’ve fancied you for years, and I want to be with you if you’ll have me.” 

Leslie burrowed further into his chest, craning her neck so she could look up at him. Ben brushed the hair from her forehead, smiling softly, almost like he couldn't help it.

And he couldn’t. Being with her was reason enough for him to be happy.

“Okay,” she said. “I think we should give this a go.” 

***

In the next hour, Ben found that he really, really liked necking Leslie Knope. A lot. 

She made the most delicious sounds when he pressed their lips together, like she was always pleasantly surprised that he did, and when he sucked the skin of her neck into his mouth, her groan went straight to his dick. She also gasped a lot, quick little puffs of air that were so quintessentially _her._

Ben was absolutely in love. He was doomed. 

“Do you think we’re just fooling ourselves?” Leslie asked, stroking a finger down the line of his jaw. “Pretending like this can work?”

Ben pulled her hand away from his face and kissed the tips of her fingers. 

“I think we’re fooling the whole damn world,” he replied. He leaned in to kiss her again, using his lips to part hers and grabbing ahold of either side of her face. Her hair was soft and silky between his fingers, and her kisses matched his in intensity.

They were all burning fire and passion. They were promises made to be kept. They were the whole entire world.

Well, she was at least. 

Leslie was lying down, and Ben towered over her, kissing her hairline, her nose and cheeks- any part of her that he could reach. His lips trailed down her neck and to the tops of her breasts, but he stopped there, not wanting to do too much too soon. He laid his head on her chest, marveling in her hummingbird heartbeat as she stroked his hair, twirling the ends of it between her nimble fingers. 

“I really do love you,” he choked out.

“I know,” she said. “I know you do.” 

***

This time, when they left the automobile, Ben was sure to take Leslie’s shoes with them. He smoothed down his hair almost self-consciously and reached out to straighten Leslie’s dress sleeve. 

“Thank you,” she said. Her lips were red and wet, and Ben couldn't help but to place one final kiss there before taking ahold of her fingers.

“You’re welcome.” 

It was strange how natural things already felt with her. Her hand felt like it belonged in his, and he didn't feel like he needed to hold back with her. 

“We should probably get you back to your room,” Ben said. “I don't want Marlene to worry.”

“Okay,” she agreed, but Ben knew she secretly didn't want to go back just yet. Her mother would probably yell at her for skipping dinner without a good reason.

“Just out of curiosity,” Ben said, swinging their arms like a pendulum as they walked through the hallways of the ship. “What are you planning on telling Marlene?” 

“About us?” 

Ben gulped and nodded. “Yeah.” 

“I don't know. I don't want to keep it a secret or anything, so if you’re alright with it, I’d like to tell her the truth.”

Ben smiled. He’d been hoping for that; the last thing he wanted was to feel like he was somebody's dirty little secret. That’s how things had been back in Southhampton with Cindy. 

Then again, with Cindy he didn’t really mind because it wasn't like he actually had any sort of feelings for her. He’d just wanted a good fuck.

“I’m alright with it.” Ben smiled. 

They walked the rest of the way to her room in silence. Not many people were out, as it was now late, and Ben welcomed the quiet. When they finally reached the door, Leslie opened it a crack, not letting go of his hand.

“I’m going to need help with my corset again.” 

“Okay,” he said as she pushed the door open all the way. “I can do that.” 

“I don't think that’ll be necessary,” Marlene cut in, her voice colder than Ben’d ever heard it before. He and Leslie both stopped in their tracks, the smiles slowly slipping from their faces. Marlene was sitting in the center of the room, artificial light illuminating her face from the lamp next to her. She looked…borderline terrifying. 

“Mother!” Leslie gasped, letting go of Ben’s hand at once. He clutched her heels harder, finding that he had the strange urge to suddenly take off his own shoes and hold them in his other hand. “I thought you’d be in bed by now!” 

“You were wrong, dear,” Marlene replied. She clucked her tongue and turned to face Ben. “There’s no reason for you to be here. I’ll help my daughter get undressed, not you.” 

“Right,” Ben said, dropping the shoes at the doorway. “I’ll just, uh…” He slowly backed out underneath the pressure of Marlene’s watchful eye. He looked over to Leslie once, who was staring at him with wide eyes, before letting the door shut behind him. 

He slumped back against it, putting his face in his hands. 

“I don't want you seeing him anymore,” he heard Marlene say through the door. 

“But, Mother-”

“No, Leslie. That’s it. You are absolutely forbidden to see that boy any longer. End of conversation.”

“If you’d just give him a chance, you’d find that he’s actually really sweet and…”

“Enough! I don't want you anywhere near him.”

Leslie fell silent after that, and the only sound to indicate that she was still there was her heavy footfalls stomping away from the room. If he was hearing things correctly, Ben could almost swear that he heard a single, angry sob escape her throat. 

Ben’s heart fell to his feet. 

This was never supposed to be how it all happened. 


End file.
